"Dawning": A Subnautica Story

"I've never really understood regret. It doesn't seem to be of any use to the human psyche. All the guilt, the unnecessary sadness, it drags a person down. So, I've made it a personal goal to never feel such a useless emotion.

Or any for that matter.

That's one of the few things that binds the human race to that puny pile of rubble that some still call home. Emotions. Emotions are simply bad for business. What place does happiness have when buying land? What place does anger have when selling loads of Plasteel? Emotions are the bane of profit, and need to be purged from this galaxy. And here at the Torgal Corporation, it is my solemn oath that such things are done away with as soon as humanly possible. Starting here."

"Thank you so very much, but that's all the time we have for today. I thank you again for taking time out of your busy schedule for this interview. I'm sure that our show will gain quite the viewership after this, you being one of the most important men in the galaxy."

"Of course," I said "Anything for my dear nephew's network. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an important meeting to attend to."

"Yes sir. Of course sir." The young man said as he bowed many times. Too many times to be healthy.

The man, ordering his camera crew to gather the gratuitous amount of equipment they brought with them, strolled out the door to the Docking Bay.

"Filthy man..." I muttered under my breath.

I stood, realizing that some of the remaining men and women might still be able to hear, and quickly strode out of the room to my office. No sooner had I left the room when my assistant came barreling around corner. We collided, and she flew backwards, throwing multiple PDA's around the corridor. It pays to be made of 45 percent pure titanium.

"What in the name of Terra, Brooklyn?! Pay attention to where you're going!" I exclaimed, gently rubbing my now bruised jaw.

"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry! So, so, sorry! I didn't think that anyone was there, and I really needed you for something important, and you needed to see it immediately, so I ran as fast as I could from my office to find you, an-"

Friend, I know how you feel. I wish the best of luck on this journey that is writing. Some succeed, many will falter and fade away. I have a feeling, however, that you will not be one of those people. Good luck, friend. May the Force be with you!

"Class, I'd just like to say how proud I am of you. You all got perfect scores on your finals, some of you even achieved 105%. I'm still not sure how that's possible, but I'm proud of you for doing it." The teacher said, slowly turning his eyes in my direction.

"Since this is your last year in this hallowed school, I'd like to wish you luck on your future endeavors and careers. May you all be successful." He said, grinning so wide that I wasn't sure if he was happy or in severe pain. It could very well be both.

The electronic bell rang, and I stood immediately. I couldn't wait to get out of this cursed classroom. As much as I loved academics, this room just reminded me of boredom. I guess that's what happens when you already know everything there is to know about chemistry.

I grabbed my PDA, which was sitting on a rack, protected by small plasma field that kept students out of having the tech for tests, or just in general. Schools were always so paranoid. You look up at the ceiling to remember an answer for a question, CHEATER! You need to blow your nose, CHEATER! If you finish a test a half an hour early, CHEATER! I seemed to experience the last one more often than not.

But I digress, I immediately my PDA and texted Naheeda, my girlfriend. This was one of the last times I would see her for a year, and I needed to talk to her. This was important.

Bart: Hey, where are you?

Naheeda : I'm just getting out of class in the 300 hall, what's up?<br>

Bart: I need to talk to you.

Bart: It's important.

Naheeda : Okay, shoot.<br>

Bart: No, this needs to be in person. I want to see your beautiful face.

Naheeda : Geez, it sounds like you're going to die or commit a serious crime. But okay, I'll be there. Meet you at the main entrance. TTYS<br>

I smiled. I was beyond lucky to have a girl like her. She was really into history. Especially the late 20th century and early 21st century. She could pull an obscure reference from that time like pulling a rabbit out of a hat. Completely unpredictable, but enjoyable every time. One of the many reasons I loved her.

When I exited the building, I saw her. Goodness, this is going to sound extremely cliché, but she was the most beautiful girl I had ever laid eyes on. She wore a traditional hijab that covered everything on her head, except her face. She had dark skin that perfectly contrasted her blindingly white teeth. Seriously, she could make someone go blind under the right lighting. She wore the mandatory school uniform that, if I may be so pig-headed, perfectly showed her figure off to the masses. And, her eyes. They were such a deep blue-green, that someone could tell that the very ocean dumped itself into her eyes, and I would've believed them in an instant.

This had to work. I wouldn't get another chance like this ever again. And I couldn't risk anyone else taking her.

She looked at me, grinned that blazing smile, and shouted, "What took you so long? Has work already slowed you down?"

"No, I just wanted to take in the sights. This is the last time either of us are going to see this place after all." I said.

"And you're sad about that?"

"A little bit. I mean, this was the place where I fell in love with you."

"Oh shut up with that cheesy mess." She said with a smirk. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Right, right. I, uh, I wanted to see you. Cause I'm going with my father to his new mine in a few days, and I won't see you-"

"I, Naheeda, I just want to say that I love you. And I want us to share that love forever." I slowly slipped down onto my knee. This was apparently how they used to propose centuries ago, and I wanted this to be special for her.

"So, I ask you, will you marry me?"

Naheeda's eyes shone with tears. She violently shook her head, repeatedly squealing out the word, "yes."

"Really?! You don't think that this is too early?! You don't mind that I don't have a ring?!" I asked her, tears now streaming down my face.

"What? You think that I would say no? You need to work on that confidence of yours. And even if you didn't ask me now, when " She said wrapping me and her in a hug.

We hugged awkwardly outside the school for a good 20 minutes. I just needed to feel her for one last time before I leave.

"I promise you, when I get back, I'll set up the best 20th century wedding known to man. I swear it upon my own head." I said.

I let go of the hug. And started walking to my shuttle. I looked back to see her, but she was surrounded by a gaggle of her friends who had watched the event. But I did see her look at me one last time.

With those ocean colored eyes...

...I'm going to miss her.

Ignore the break lines that appear throughout this part. I'm not sure why they're appearing or how to get rid of them. So, uh, just blame it on rookie writing.

Today was my last day of work for a long time, so I needed it to count. So I did. 26 hours of work to be precise. I've bought out the preexisting mine shafts, outbid companies and governments for ownership of the asteroid, signed all the documents that are needed to develop the equipment that will be used in the operation, hired experienced miners who know how to mine lithium with blowing up their sorry butts, and gained flight clearance to embark on the first journey to the new mine. A fairly productive day, if I do say so myself.

Tomorrow was the day we sailed for 8 months into the inky darkness to Asteroid B0AGDD. All that planning had to go perfectly, or I can kiss the large quantities of credits that could come out of this operation goodbye. That is why I insisted that I go and inspect the mines to see if they hold the profit that was promised to me. Sadly, Brooklyn wouldn't allow it. Nor would my wife. Both of them said that embarking on such a journey would be "ridiculously idiotic and unnecessarily risky." Pah, what does risk matter when there is expansion and profit to be exploited? I continued to argue my point, but anyone that would listen wrote it off as, "a senile old man that desperately needs adventure." It's safe to say that those people no longer work here anymore.

Now all that is needed is a crew. A compromise that I agreed to. And I admit, the journey could be quite treacherous. The amount of pirates that skulk around in the outer borders of inhabited space is staggering. So many people wanting to get money so quickly. Lazy bags of wasted flesh. It makes me sick that so many souls had pledged their lives to be a severe pain in the butt for everyone within a light year radius.

Because of these pirates I would need considerable protection. Another, smaller ship filled to capacity with soldiers. At first, I wanted a team from the TSF, but they were predisposed fighting a hostile alien race. So, I would need to turn to mercenaries. While their trustworthiness is questionable, their skill and dedication to fighting was second to none.

The only problem now would be finding acceptable people to accompany my family and I. So, I browsed a database full of the people. Sadly, many of these mercenary profiles were labeled with either Recovering Criminal or Registered Sociopath. Not exactly comforting thoughts when you plan on spending 8 months in enclosed quarters with complete strangers that had a knack for murder.

After a near 3 hour search, I found an acceptable roster of men and women for a crew.

NAME: Sylas Deluca

HEIGHT: 1.72 m. (5' 8") WEIGHT: 82 Kg. (182 lbs.)

PREVIOUS OCCUPATION: Retired TSF Captain

TALENTS: Highly adept at killing various hostile lifeforms.
Most accurate marksmen in the entire West side of the Milky Way.
Makes a mean Omelet.

NAME: Kamron Leroy

HEIGHT: 1.60 m. (5' 4") WEIGHT: 61 Kg. (136 lbs.)

PREVIOUS OCCUPATION: Obraxian Pilot

TALENTS: Capable of both hand-to-hand and ship combat.
Previous experience in stealth situations.

It says a lot that the most qualified geologist in the Ariadne Arm is a registered sociopath. Who crushes rocks. And is nearly seven feet tall.

I am currently writing a fantasy novel which I plan to be the beginning of a six-seven book series.
To sate my thirst for people to read my stories, however, I write one on the forums in the meantime: FE . DC .

The day has finally come. The day we go to the asteroid, and the day I begin my lessons on the ways of running the Torgaljin Trans-Government. My father said that when his time comes, that I must be prepared to continue in his stead. To continue to grow the profit that my grandfather had created. But being the standard teenager, I procrastinated packing until the last minute. Typical.

By the time I had arrived in the ship gantry, I seemed like there wasn't a single part of the room that wasn't moving. People hustled about, carrying various shuttle pieces of every size. People climbing the walls, re-calibrating the plasma shield that protected us from the vacuum of space. Even the usually dormant drones zipped about, showing papers and parts to my father and the gantry captain, repairing everything on the shuttle, be it as large as a broken wind shield or as small as a scuff mark on the port side. It was not only efficient, but rather impressive to watch. Everything working in perfect harmony with one another. If only Torgal Corp. could be that way. I wish Naheeda could have been here, I wanted to say goodbye to her, but she hasn't shown up. I don't think she will show up, to my dismay.

"Och, it's really no trouble at all. That's what this room was built for. But I gotta say, that ship of yours is one of the prettiest to have moored at this dock." The captain said, with obvious awe in voice.

It was true, the shuttle was quite the beauty. A 3-ton, slightly radioactive beauty that is. Her hull was a sleek gray color, complimented with the white solor panels striping around the ship. Compared to most mining ships, she was very small, just a lowly 8-seater. Fortunately, with her size, comes the benefit of a smaller cost when it comes to docking at the various phasegates. After all, credits make the galaxy go round. But back to the ship. The gray hull led to the four hyperdrive rockets. Fairly ancient technology, but many, many times cheaper. They also don't carry the risk of leaking Antimatter. Scary stuff that is.

We were admiring the ship when the new mercenaries entered the room. It was hard not to hear them though, they were largest beasts of men and women I had ever seen. They walked in a group, carrying bags of all sorts of equipment and weapons with them. They wore very little, just the Torgal Corp. patented bodysuits, which wasn't enough to hide their rippling masses of muscles.

"Are those the mercs, or did the Justice League just walk in on us?" The captain asked warily.

"Could be both. I better greet them before they decide they want to wrestle." I said dryly.

I strode over to them, shouting, "Welcome to Torgaljin Corporation!"

Many of them didn't even acknowledge my existence. They continued to walk to the ship, nary batting an eye. Only the lead merc stopped and smiled. He had jet black hair with the slightest twinges of gray on the outer layer. He was tall and very well built. He was, however, covered in scars. One began at his bottom lip, and stretched all the way down his neck, and continued down to his arm. "It's a pleasure to join your operation Mr. Torgal. I've heard that you have quite the extensive job for us?" The man said, in vague Terran English accent.

"Indeed I do Mr. Deluca. We're traveling to an asteroid approximately 4.25 lightyears away, deep into pirate territory. You and your men will protect this ship until it makes it safely back to this dock." I said.

"Sounds like fun. But, pardon my asking, are we all to fit in that shuttle there? She doesn't seem big enough to fit us all." He questioned.

"Ah, yes. You and your men are to fly in a smaller ship in the gantry near here. A six-seater resting just in the gantry next to us. It has been stocked with many plasma torpedoes, along with some other fun toys at your disposal. Do what you will with the ship. Consider it a present from the Torgal Corp."

"Very generous of you Mr. Torgal. My associates and I greatly accept your conditions. We will protect you and your crew with our lives." He said with a smile.

He then ran to the other mercs to tell them of my terms and outfit them to their own ship. The sooner they reach their ship, the better. The men and women were graced with exceptional physical strength, but they were quite lacking in the physical beauty department. One of the women barely had a nose, like it had been slammed into a wall repeatedly for hours.

Wait, I had forgotten. Our ship would need protection from the inside. Despite my best instincts, I called Sylas over and asked one of the mercenaries to board our ship in case of enemy boarding.

"Of course. And, for you, only the best will accompany you. My wife, the fiercest of anyone here." He said.

He called over to one of the women, and she came stalking towards us. She had fairly dark skin, with very dark, short hair to boot. However, she had bright white streak going horizontally across the side of her hair. As with the rest of the mercs, she was built like a truck, abnormally scarred face, and a perpetual hint of bloodlust in her eyes.

"Mon amour, you will be flying with this man, protecting him from any dangers that may come aboard his ship." He spoke softly.

"Mhh, whatever. So long as I get to beat some faces in, I'll sit wherever you want me to." She said, cracking her knuckles.

Possibly in the airlock. I could be rid of you that much faster. I thought to myself.

Everyone began to board the ships, hurrying to their posts. I found my wife and son, and pulled them inside. They took their stations at the radar, and I took position of pilot. I didn't go through 8 years of space flight classes on Mars to not ever use them.

As quickly as the gantry had been an explosion of movement, just as quickly became devoid of life. I switched on the engine, and I could feel the extreme power of the four thrusts behind me. Soon after, the blue shield faded and all that was behind it was darkness. The locks keeping us in the gantry slowly began to unlock. I looked around the gantry one last time for any obstacles, and saw the Gantry Captain saluting to me. I saluted back, then forced a smile to my face. I was tired of being happy for that man, and I was having a difficult time upholding it. I quickly looked away, and spoke over the intercom to any of the other passengers that could hear me.

"Welcome aboard, we will be out in space for approximately 8 months. Make yourselves comfortable, abide by the ration rules, and do your jobs better than you ever have before. The ship will be unlatching from the gantry in the coming seconds, so hang on to something."

The locks came loose, and I put the thrusters up to half power. Even from such a small adjustment of power, the ship shot out of the gantry like a cannonball. Had I not been holding onto the steering panel, I would have been thrown into the back wall like a sock puppet. I readjusted the angle of the ship, and we were off to Asteroid B0AGDD.

I picked up the intercom one last time, "We have successfully departed the station, you are now free to move about the Degasi."

"We have been in space four months as of today. We've come over the hump of our travels. Morale is still high, and the impending uprising I thought that would already happen hasn't yet, so good news indeed. However, the mercenary has been, jumpy. Her muscles must beg for a fight. Note to self, don't sneak up on her. I really thought that we had lost our only engineer that way. However, she hasn't murdered anyone either, so no harm, no foul. Sailing has been smooth so far. No pirates to be seen. The mercenary ship, they aptly named Blitz, has had little work in the way of danger, aside from some angry starwhals that got too curious of the Degasi. We're still wiping that mess off the windshield. We have no more tha-"

"Oh for love, would you put that stupid pad down. Your on it every time I see you." My wife exclaimed.

"Hannah, I need to do this. It is literally required to record all operations so they can be stored in the database to analyze the cost-benefits of this year. You know this." I said annoyed.

"But every time I'm within a 5 meter radius of you? It just seems like you do it whenever I see you, as if you're trying to ignore my existence!" Hannah said, louder.

"Maybe I am! If you hadn't noticed, I'm trying to fly 3-ton behemoth at almost 150,000 kilometers a second! That takes quite a bit of concentration!"

"Oh, stop spouting that nonsense, I can see the autopilot on right now. This thing is flying itself!"

"Well at least the Degasi has the decency to not complain every 30 minutes!"

At this remark, Hannah growled, threw her hands up in the air, and stormed out of the room.

I sighed, reveling in my re-obtained quiet. Why couldn't she see that this job keeps me busy beyond the capacity for conversation? It is such a simple topic to understand, yet she still denies the work I do.

Hannah Bat-Erdene Altantsetseg Torgal. A beautiful woman that one, but terribly stubborn. Stubbornness to almost insufferable levels. She had light brown hair, having almost a golden tint. But it obviously had been dyed, no one at her age can still have hair, let alone luscious, golden-brown locks. She also had deep, chocolate-flavored eyes. Though they had faded over time, into a different, unsavory, shade. She was fairly short, and liked to deny that fact. Living proof that Little Man Syndrome doesn't discriminate against gender.

There was once a time that I could say that I loved her, but those times are gone. I've fixed the mistake of letting my heart open that wretched emotion. Never again will I make the same mistake.

We had fought for the past 3 decades, and the bickering seemed to be endless. But I've refused to divorce her. I've seen the alimony averages, there's no way I'd ever pay that ridiculous amount of credits!

Once she left, I returned the steering panel. I looked as the computer calculated complex variables, adjusted it's angle, checked destination coordinates, aggregated the radar data streamed to it every second, and adjusted it's angle again. All within a fraction of a second. The technology on the Degasi was quite astounding. Did it really need me to pilot it? It seems more than capable. Was Hannah...

...no. That's not it. I'm just tired. I just need to focus on something.

I left the Main Bridge and headed to the Scanner Room, a complex dome that took everything within 50 AU and collected it's genetic makeup via various radiowaves to create a detailed map of our surrounding space. This room would be the early warning system if anything got too close for our own comfort.

As I shambled in, Bart tore his eyes off his own monitor for a moment, smiled at me, then immediately turned back to whatever he was studying. I marveled at the 3D picture of the many planets and stars that dotted the picture.

"It's amazing, isn't it." Bart suddenly spoke, "How we're so small compared to everything else in our universe. We'll probably never explore everything that space has to offer. It's almost depressing to think about how many wonderful surprises that we don't even know we're missing out on. Such is life in space I guess."

I stayed silent and continued to scan through the projection. Then I saw something, a star. I smiled as I realized what I was looking at. "Computer, zoom in 3000% on this area here." I said, pointing to the star.

The image panned in until all I could see was a wire-frame White Dwarf and it's surrounding system of planets. "Alpha Hydrae 4..." I whispered to myself.

Many years ago, my father had bought this star as a gift for my mother for their anniversary. She was so happy, she insisted they drop everything to go see this star for themselves. My father said that the journey would be too far for me and my siblings. We would miss half of our entire lives with the technology we had at the time. But my father promised that once someone put up a phasegate near the it, they would be the first ones to see Alpha Hydrae 4. That promise was never fulfilled sadly, because... never mind. No point in putting myself in a dark mood with useless flashbacks.

As I reminisced, something caught my eye. Amidst the blue wireframe space-scape, I saw a small planet that was bright orange. I squinted, suspecting that my eyes were at fault. But no, that orange glow remained. "Computer," I asked, "What is wrong with that planet?"

"Sensors show that this particular area is on to above-level with Asteroid B0AGDD on mine-able lithium and other raw, Plasteel related, ingredients." The computer relayed.

On to above-level... on to above-level. That couldn't be possible. The asteroid was nearly 40% Lithium, 26% Titanium/Iron, and 34% Slag. These were already outrageous percentages, more than half of 6 Km. asteroid could be used for profit. "Computer, what is the percentage of this planet has useful, mine-able materials?" I asked.

"This planet, NotYetNamed, within searchable parameters, is detected to comprise of 31% Lithium, 46% Pure Titanium, 12% Slag, 11% Other mine-able materials. This calculation comprises only 62% of the planet. If materials are consistent with trends seen in previous calculations, this planet is estimated to contain 36% Lithium, 48% Pure Titanium, 2% Slag, 14% Other mine-able materials."

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't see. I couldn't feel. All I could do was repeat those numbers. Over and over in my head. The numbers spun around everything around me, pirouetting through the holographic projection, through the walls of the ship. Ship.

I didn't realize what was happening until I was already out of the Scanner Room, running as fast as my aching joints would allow. "84%," I thought to myself, "84% Plasteel planet."

My hands flew across the steering panel, punching in coordinate numbers, manually turning the ship to my starboard side. I felt like an advanced machine, incapable of mistake.

I didn't think, I didn't regret, I didn't second-guess, I just did.

Exactly what I've always wanted.

I put the thrust up to its highest capacity, and we flew off through space, faster than I've ever gone before. It was exhilarating. Profit the likes of which no man, woman, or child could even fathom was to be mine. All mine...

Oh, dear. Once a character starts laughing maniacally, things are bound to go downhill....

I had drifted o’er seas without ending,
Under sinister grey-clouded skies
That the many-fork’d lightning is rending,
That resound with hysterical cries;
With the moans of invisible daemons that out of the green waters rise.
- H.P. Lovecraft

Oh, dear. Once a character starts laughing maniacally, things are bound to go downhill....

And the little fact that Paul sees this planet as no more than 84% Plasteel, didn't inform anyone of his altered intentions and remarks that the profit will be 'all his'. Ladies and gentlemen: this man is Donald Trump and 4546B is his Mexico.

I am currently writing a fantasy novel which I plan to be the beginning of a six-seven book series.
To sate my thirst for people to read my stories, however, I write one on the forums in the meantime: FE . DC .

Oh, dear. Once a character starts laughing maniacally, things are bound to go downhill....

And the little fact that Paul sees this planet as no more than 84% Plasteel, didn't inform anyone of his altered intentions and remarks that the profit will be 'all his'. Ladies and gentlemen: this man is Donald Trump and 4546B is his Mexico.

Ladies and gentlemen, we are going to build a phasegate. It's going to be YUUUUUGE, and Alterra is going to pay for it!

I had drifted o’er seas without ending,
Under sinister grey-clouded skies
That the many-fork’d lightning is rending,
That resound with hysterical cries;
With the moans of invisible daemons that out of the green waters rise.
- H.P. Lovecraft

Well, this has been a boring job. Here I was, all geared up for a fight, and all we've done so far was kill some stray Starwhals. And even that turned out to be a bad decision. We've been trying to scrape that stuff off Blitz's windshield for days. I really regret agreeing to this job. I mean, in my defense, I didn't have much of a choice. It was either this or going back to filling Skulks full of lead, and I refuse to go back to those disgusting cesspools.

And to make matters worse, I had to spend all hours with some of the most unpleasant people in the Ariadne Arm. I do appreciate that they came from similar backgrounds as I did. It made conversations with them much less awkward. But they weren't the most gifted in social skills. Or manners.

Kamron was fairly short for a man, but that did little to undermine him. What he lacked in vertical height, he made up for in muscle height. He had the the lowest fat percentage of any human being I've ever seen. And as for his skill, he was second to none. Being a pilot during the Obraxian Massacre, he killed off nearly half of the uprising group with his immaculately placed plasma torpedo bolts. Too bad about the civilian casualties, or he would have been heralded as a hero. He's been bitter about this fact ever since.

Aerora could very well be the most beautiful person in the galaxy. The only problem is that her beauty has been crushed under the layers and layers of 7 years worth of beatings, leaving her face to look like she got plastic surgery from a blind Fade. Due to an unfortunate cage match, her nose had nearly been turned inwards. Her long, golden hair had multiple patches missing, looking like someone had torn it off. I wouldn't be surprised at all if that was what happened. Despite her physical appearance, she was one of the best close-range fighters I've ever had the pleasure of seeing in action. A man had once tried to mug her in a spaceport, and last I heard of him is that they were still looking for his foot.

Gzad was a mystery. He wasn't incredibly knowledgeable on English, so he tended to stay silent, speaking in affirmative or negative grunts. But if he was to enter the Mr. Universe pageant, I have no doubt that he would win, hands down. His bicep's bicep's had biceps. His legs were about as thick around as a grown man. He was responsible for the 57 deaths in Asteroid 214, a feat that had the authorities stumped to this day, despite the event happening over a decade ago. Gzad was also the foremost expert on ore. His interest in minerals, seemed, unhealthy, for lack of better words. I'm pretty sure I overheard him chanting to a piece of Bismuth a few weeks ago. I tried to forget that event as much as I could.

But they're the only people I can talk to, as the engineers with us don't dare come withing 5 meters of us mercenaries. It's actually quite funny to see them run and cower in the engine room whenever Gzad wakes up for his watch shift.

The only entertainment opportunity available in this isolation deck was harassment. Harassing, specifically, Mr. Torgal. I don't trust the man, nor do I trust the rest of his crew. If he wasn't such a coward, he would ditch us in the middle of space without a second thought. With concern to our pay, we haven't done many severe pranks. Remotely set off some alarms, nudged the Degasi enough to freak out the people inside, and even got Kamron to tape some printed pictures of an Onos on the external cameras. We got a good laugh out of that one.

But the best one by far definitely has to be when we switched the Torgaljin product sets with the Alterra product sets. So when Mr. Torgal goes to fabricate one of his basic Exo's, he'll get an Alterra PRAWN. Something that would anger the old man to no end, but would ultimately be worth the reaction. I could see him scratching his head in confusion when he got that hunk of junk instead. Thinking of moments like that make the unbearable bore of space travel worth it.

But, enough of my self wallowing, it was my watch shift. Even if I was certain nothing was anywhere near us, I was contractually obligated to watch the Degasi during my hours. I stared through at the monitor displaying the external camera feed from the outside of Blitz, almost praying something would attack. I'd even want a freaking ship full of Kharaa to come out of wormhole at this point. I was that desperate.

As usual, nothing happened on the feed. Just an eight-seater taking a leisurely, light-speed stroll through the cosmos. But suddenly, the Degasi jerked downwards, faster than the camera could move. Then it came back to the appropriate level, turned nearly 90 degrees to its starboard side, and practically blipped out of existence. Faster than I would expect a ship of that size to move. "Kamron!" I screamed, "We got trouble!"

"Where, I'll blast it out of existence!" he yelled in return.

"No you idiot! Torgal just abandoned us! He's already long gone by now!" I screamed louder.

I can take being mistreated, I can take being misunderstood, I can even take being ridiculed. But never, never under any circumstances, will I allow you to abandon me. Over my dead body.

I ran to the main bridge, yelling to Kamron, "Follow the imbecile! Follow the imbecile!"

"What? Why?" He asked, clearly puzzled.

"Because that little human stain is going to pay for hiring us, then leaving us for no reason!" I said, beyond infuriated.

"Dude, what's your problem?" He said, grasping my wrist.

I shook his hand off, and gave him the most withering glare I could muster. Kamron backed away from me, trying to find the emergency alarm behind him. I couldn't have that, the others couldn't understand. They wouldn't understand.

I grabbed a small throwing knife from my leg pocket, and threw at his leg. The knife stabbed his upper calf, causing him to topple onto the deck, howling in pain. "You will remain loyal to me, you miserable ingrate! We're going for Torgal, and we'll make him pay!"

Kamron quieted down, almost whimpering from fear and pain. But I didn't care at that point. Torgal would pay. Torgal would pay. Torgal would pay.

No one will ever cross me again. No one will ever cross Sylas Deluca and live to tell the tale.

I blame Paul. He changed course without telling anyone about it. Though I reckon there's better ways to go about it than whatever scheme Sylas has concocted. Okay, they're both at tremendous fault here. I'm rooting for Bart and Karmon at this point, though I'm not sure where Karmon stands right now.

And I'm wondering how the rock whisperer will react to the Ion...

I am currently writing a fantasy novel which I plan to be the beginning of a six-seven book series.
To sate my thirst for people to read my stories, however, I write one on the forums in the meantime: FE . DC .

You know those days, where everything seems to turn up roses? How nothing bad happens for the entire day, and you feel like you're on cloud 9?

This day was the opposite of that.

I sat in the Scanner Room, overlooking a small swamp planet filled with giant cockroach-like monsters when the ship flailed around like a chew-toy in a dog's mouth. My chair had not been locked down for safety purposes, so I went flying into the wall behind me. No sooner had we dove, the ship righted itself once again. I was dislodged from the small dent I had made with my fall, and slammed into the metal ground. After a few seconds of trying to get my bearings, and failing miserably, I stood and hobbled to the entrance. I exited the Scanner Room to see what was happening, when I saw my father at the panel.

I didn't even have time to question him when his right hand swiped hard to the starboard side. The Degasi jerked to its right, causing me along with all the other loose object to go spiraling into the opposite wall. When I hit the wall, I heard an audible crack and my side exploded in pain. Definitely a broken rib, if not multiple. I lay there on the deck, trying not to heave my innards, when I heard my father chanting, "84%...84%...84%...84%...84%..."

I hadn't the slightest idea what he was talking about, but I didn't like it. I tried to stand, but my stomach crawled up my throat, and my vision dimmed into a red haze. I quickly dropped back to the deck, cradling my own body. I tried to yell, but my lungs didn't want to inflate, so I was reduced to a whisper. "Father, what are you doing?" I croaked.

He didn't pay any attention to me, but continued to try to keep pushing the thrust above 100%. I kept trying to get his attention, but each attempt left me drained and dizzy. It wasn't until an engineer ran in from the Engine Room screaming, "Sir! Sir! Slow down or the engine will overheat and collapse!!"

The man, whose name I believe was Marcus Troutzart, ran to my father and tried to shake him away from the panel. My father, scarcely moving his head, swiftly backhanded the man, sending him spiraling backwards. I had never seen him do such a thing, my father was not a violent man, and had always talked about how such violent acts were barbaric and idiotic. This was completely out of character for him.

Soon, alarms blared, as the computer spoke over the Degasi's intercom saying, "Danger, danger, reactor silos numbers two and three are in critical condition. Overheating imminent, turn off engines immediately."

My father didn't even flinch.

Marcus shouted, "Mr. Torgal! You're going to kill us all if you don't stop!"

Only then did my father speak, "What should I care?"

His answer had shocked me. He had truly lost it. I was so flabbergasted that I didn't realize Marguerit sprint in. She jumped, almost flying, and delivered a crushing blow my father's jaw. He cried out, as he was knocked nearly 2 meters back, sliding into a row of computers. "Are you insane?!" Marguerit yelled, "You could of killed everyone in the ship with this stunt of yours!"

He didn't respond, holding his now bloodied mouth. We all sat in silence as the computer relayed the engine's heat readings. We stared at him for what seemed to be forever. After an inordinate amount of silence, he spoke softly, "What should I care?..."

At this response, Marguerit stomped over to him, and gave him a swift kick to the stomach. Then gave him another, and another. It took 2 engineers and myself to drag Marguerit away from my father. And even then she shouted some of the vilest, explicit words I had ever heard. And I went to Secondary school.

Once we were sure that Marguerit wouldn't kill my father, we set about cooling the nearly critical, radioactive hyperdrives. Only my mother attended to my fathers wounded body. I would've helped, but I couldn't bare to look my father in the eyes. Everything I knew about him, everything that I had attributed to him, was slowly cracking. I wished more than anything to keep this image from breaking.

After we had stabilized the engines, we set about to getting back on course. I checked our destination, our last recorded position, and our current position. And things were not looking good. Due to such a high burn for such a long time, not to mention our current, unhindered kinetic energy, we had traveled 1,366,956 Km. away from Asteroid B0AGDD. Things were not looking good. Not only that, but we were still traveling at untold speeds towards a mystery destination. But the next problem we had to solve was how to stop. No ship was ever designed to stop while traveling at such insane speeds. We would need to to orbit around several other planets and moons to take advantage of their atmospheric friction.

Sadly, until we could get the ship stopped, we couldn't turn back. We could literally tear ourselves apart by trying that. There is no other way but to go to...whatever my father was so desperate to see. I still couldn't see what made the planet so special, besides an abnormally high titanium content.

It would take an estimated 12 days to reach the area, barring any complications during orbiting.

Maybe not 100%, but a solid 99.9. He had the initiative to change course to a more promising destination, but hadn't the sense to tell anyone about it. And then hooked an engineer for telling him that everybody would die.

So here's my over-analysis of these events: I reckon there's something else on 4546B that we have yet to hear about; something that would give Paul more incentive to chase after it, maybe even give Sylas incentive to try and stop him. Bart is well educated, perhaps the most educated person on both the Degasi and Blitz, and he can see nothing special about the planet save its titanium content.

The only problem with this is that Paul was whispering 84% under his breath. There are ways that this could work with the theory, but you have to do some elaborate tom foolery to make the pieces fit.

I am currently writing a fantasy novel which I plan to be the beginning of a six-seven book series.
To sate my thirst for people to read my stories, however, I write one on the forums in the meantime: FE . DC .

Maybe not 100%, but a solid 99.9. He had the initiative to change course to a more promising destination, but hadn't the sense to tell anyone about it. And then hooked an engineer for telling him that everybody would die.

So here's my over-analysis of these events: I reckon there's something else on 4546B that we have yet to hear about; something that would give Paul more incentive to chase after it, maybe even give Sylas incentive to try and stop him. Bart is well educated, perhaps the most educated person on both the Degasi and Blitz, and he can see nothing special about the planet save its titanium content.

The only problem with this is that Paul was whispering 84% under his breath. There are ways that this could work with the theory, but you have to do some elaborate tom foolery to make the pieces fit.

I believe he was muttering "84%" because if you combine the lithium and titanium content on the player it adds up to make 84% of the planet Plasteel materials.

Maybe not 100%, but a solid 99.9. He had the initiative to change course to a more promising destination, but hadn't the sense to tell anyone about it. And then hooked an engineer for telling him that everybody would die.

So here's my over-analysis of these events: I reckon there's something else on 4546B that we have yet to hear about; something that would give Paul more incentive to chase after it, maybe even give Sylas incentive to try and stop him. Bart is well educated, perhaps the most educated person on both the Degasi and Blitz, and he can see nothing special about the planet save its titanium content.

The only problem with this is that Paul was whispering 84% under his breath. There are ways that this could work with the theory, but you have to do some elaborate tom foolery to make the pieces fit.

I believe he was muttering "84%" because if you combine the lithium and titanium content on the player it adds up to make 84% of the planet Plasteel materials.

Yea, of course, but that complicates my theory about there being something more tot his. Him whispering that makes it sound like that is his sole intent when it comes to visiting 4546B, and that there isn't some deeper meaning behind this detour. I'm probably overthinking things, but it's fun to speculate

I am currently writing a fantasy novel which I plan to be the beginning of a six-seven book series.
To sate my thirst for people to read my stories, however, I write one on the forums in the meantime: FE . DC .

If God truly does exist, he had to have had a hand in the past few days.

Nearly everything went in perfect accordance to what we had calculated. Not a single orbit was shaky, not a single poor weather spike, not a single engine problem. Everything was almost like a luxury space cruise. Only with a constant, looming thought that a single mistake could kill everyone aboard. Pleasurable flight, I know.

We were a mere 1,000 Mm. from hitting planet. Approximately 24 hours until planetfall. Our resource count was high, we had plenty of food, the nearby star, Alpha Hydrae 4, would do a phenomenal job of powering the ships depleting energy, and we had not yet reached the Line of Piracy. Things seem to finally be turning around for the better.

The only problem we had is that we have been unsuccessful at contacting The Blitz. After my father took us on his fool's errand, we had heard nary a peep from the ship. Most likely to our communications systems being damaged at our high velocity. But that wasn't looking to be the truth either, as we were able to send out an SOS to the nearest Phasegate dock with little trouble. The only other explanation that we were able to come up with is that they were attacked by pirates that had gotten bolder than they're borders. I only hope those mercenaries are okay.

I was in the engine room, calculating how many days we would need to stay planet-side, when my father walked in. He had become eerily quiet since his beating from Marguerit. My mother had taken care of him since then, bandaging him up (a little too much), staying by his side at all times, she even helped him go to the toilet (as he had refused to so for the last week.) It was admirable to see her continue to care for him, even though he had shown no guilt as to nearly killing her just a few days ago. She had such a strong love for him, it was almost fairytale-like. I wonder if Naheeda and I will be like that, with such an undying love for each other. I sincerely hope so.

Anyway, my father seemed to have aged ten years in the past ten days. His back had curved, as if he had been carrying around large weights on his back. His hair had lost its pearlescent white and had dulled to ashen gray. His eyes had lost their constant sharpness, like he was constantly expecting another deal to pounce at him from around a corner, and had become milky and unfocused. Even with the human race's advanced medicinal technology, we were still mortal. Just mortals who can live to upwards of 200 years. But my father seemed to be knocking on death's door. As angry as I was towards him, he was still my father, and I hoped he would make it through this adventure. When we returned home, Naheeda and I would personally take him to the best psychiatric help in the galaxy. He would get the help he so desperately needs.

My father shook me out of my thoughts with, "So, how are the engines running?" He whispered.

This was a surprise, as he seemed to abandon any form of communication for quite some time now. So him speaking now was borderline suspicious. "Uh, they're running perfectly. Everything has stabilized."

He simply nodded. We stood there in awkward silence for nearly 5 minutes when Marcus walked in. "Mr. Bart, we are within range of a full surface scan of the planet. We would like you to come have a look at this. It's...interesting to say the least."

"Oh, o-of course. Excuse me Father." I said. But I doubt my father even heard me. He stood there, staring, unwavering in this only action. I left without another word.

When I arrived at the Scanner Room, the few engineers were already hard at work gathering whatever intel they could about this mystery planet. Machines whirred, people scurried about, and the large holographic image whirled and dilated at the engineers will. It was a dizzying sight to behold. The other engineers called me over, almost squealing with joy, "Sir, this planet is not yet documented in any on-board databases. We believe that we have discovered a new planet!"

This was certainly intriguing. New planets were hard to come by, so finding one is like winning an Alterra lottery. Nearly impossible.

"Well, it seems my father's poor choice is starting to pay off. What shall we name this fine planet?" I said.

"We've discussed that, and, following the documenting laws of 2049, we have decided to name this planet 4546B and the nearby planetoid 4546A."

"Very well, a good name for documentary purposes, but what will we call it? 4546B doesn't really roll off the tongue." I said.

"Well, I think a fitting name for it would be Áfthona Hydros." Marcus said.

"Does the planet have water on it?" I said, puzzled.

"4546B is in fact, a water planet. Very little signs of land have been identified. This will make landing more than difficult, as scanners have not yet detected any portion of land big enough for the Degasi. Above or below water. There is a possibility this planet has no landmass at all."

"Hmm, that does complicate some things..."

"We'll keep searching the surface for any acceptable landing points. I'll update you the minute we find something."

"Good, steady on then."

I stared at the projection of the planet, searching for any signs of abnormality. But, nothing. Why did my father want to come here?